


Zero

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, slur cw, swear cw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shield Secondary's football team is rag-tag to say the least, with science nerds on running back, burnouts on wide receiving, a foreign transfer student as tackle, and an art kid as quarter back. It was all thanks to Coach Fury's push for a "real motherfucking football team- you can't have a high school without a football team." So come first game of the season, The Avengers are faced by Haymitch Yäger's Detention & Remedial Academy's vicious team, The Skulls. With their red starred jerseys and the fact that their team is completely composed of rough and tough delinquents, it's safe to say The Avengers are shaking in their boots. But when their mysterious kicker, player 00, doesn't do as much kicking as he does run, Steve can't help but wonder if he's been here before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Déjà vu - That One Time The Skulls Were Really Sneaky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((soundtrack: www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJt7gNi3Nr4))

Steve glanced at the clock, the zeros glaring at him in red. He gave an assuring glance to his crouching team. He tried to convince himself that this was just like practice. Hell, his breath was even misting, just as it had on the crunched grass of their home field, just he other day. It was different now. Now they were on Haymitch Yäger’s Detention & Remedial Academy’s soil. 

Amazing touchdowns, hairpin points, celebrity status, didn’t matter until the whistle blew. The way Steve saw it: everyone was equal. Zero points for each team, no handicaps and no advantages- just the game before them. 

The Avengers had a classic starting line up, Bruce on line back, Nat and Clint wide receiving, Tony as running back, Thor on tackle, and Steve as quarterback. This is what The Avengers were best at- their element. Sure, they didn’t have “synergy” or whatever coach Fury was always yelling at them about through his eye patch, but they worked. 

When they played within tandem of each other, they were unstoppable. When they played in spite of each other, they crumbled. Each player had his or her own asset. Bruce with his wild strength, Thor had more of a controlled and practiced tackle. Tony had the intensity, with a wise crack on the side. Nat and Clint had speed and skill, artfully receiving and passing with ease, not to mention their intuitive partnership. 

Needless to say, The Avengers were shit at strategy. Tony usually threw that out the window within the first quarter. Their only consistent strategy was to follow Steve and hope for the best. He’d never gloat, but Steve was the needle stringing the team together. 

Whatever happened, whichever strategy they fucked up, Shield Secondary had to win. They hadn’t lost a single game since last year, when they defeated the Invaders by a hairpin point, thanks to Tony. They couldn’t risk their undefeated champion title, much less the embarrassment of losing the first game of the season. 

Shrill, high noise cut through the air. The red stars on the Skulls’ jersys began jumbling around, evading tackle and weaseling their way to the ball. Each lithe player passing it between their hands, laterally, like a stone on a lake. Tony and Thor attempting to break their cycle, at least tackle someone. No luck. 

The ball flew in favour of the Avengers, even though no Avenger had been near it. Who tossed it? Bruce? Steve scanned around the chaos in the middle of the field. Who had caught the ball? Tony? 

But no, despite being passed laterally, away from The Skulls’ team, the ball was squarely in the Skulls’ kicker- player 00’s- hands. 

Steve had an uneasy feeling. He’d never known a Skulls player with the number 00. Let alone their kicker. And not just any kicker, 00 was unusually strong, unusually fast for a kicker. No one had been paying attention to him, no one expected him to run up the side of the field instead of kick like he was supposed to. No one even knew who he was. 00 ran twenty yards, dodging collision, before being tackled to the ground by a redhead with a black belt in Judo. He was impressive to say the least, at least Steve thought. 

“Fuck that guy!” Nat yelled as she spat out her mouth guard. 

Clint rubbed the back of his neck under his helmet, “Who the hell is he?” 

Steve gazed across the field to 00. There was something about the way he dodged every player like a busy Brooklyn kid in a crowd. How he tore across the grass like a jerk that had just punched a guy behind the arcade and was running for his life. 

“Oh my god.” Steve furrowed his brow, “It’s Bucky.”


	2. Black and Blue - Everyone has to Deal With Steve's Personal Issues

“He’s hot.” Tony grinned through his helmet, making sure that Steve was at least 50% uncomfortable, “Ex boyfriend?” 

Steve opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by another high whistle,   
“No, just an old friend- I think.”   
The teams crouched at the new line of scrimmage as Steve tried to catch a glimpse of Bucky, player 00, over an opposing Skulls’ shoulder. He wanted to see if he could confirm that it was Bucky, if 00 had the same lopsided smirk, or the defiant chin- he could just make out 00’s familiar blue eyes looking back through the obstruction of his helmet. Steve’s brows pulled together, lines creasing his forehead. 

Steve was locked onto 00 the entire time, caught between hoping and worrying that 00 was his old friend. What if he was- and he didn’t even remember Steve? What if he wasn’t?

Every new set, The Skulls passed laterally and in blind trust tossed the ball into the field, knowing that 00 would be there to catch it and run it upwards of 10 yards down the line. 

The entire game they were neck to neck. Every chance he got, Steve inspected the player. He ran a mental checklist- “Bucky and 00.” Every time he looked over, he found another similarity, in appearance or physicality. Of course, it had been more than five years since he’d seen his old friend. Could it really be Bucky?

The biggest difference was the stiffness and under use of 00’s left arm. It didn’t swing they way it should have. He only used it to cradle the ball, never to hold, as he ripped up the turf with undivided focus. 

“I don’t think I can stand this shit.” Nat grimaced, “I’m pretty sure my entire right side is black and blue.”  
Tony hollered from center field, “Use your left side, then.”   
Nat flipped him off. 

In a surprising turn of events (thanks to Tony and his indifference to instruction) The Avengers pulled themselves up. The Skulls didn’t go down with a fight, scowling and practically growling the entire time. They ended up winning by a few points, if not by the sweat of their brows. 

 

After school the next day, Natasha picked at her jeans, the dark rips revealing that, indeed, her right thigh was inking with a nasty bruise,  
“It’s ‘cus I’m the only one who’d tackle the guy.”   
“I was on the other side of the field-otherwise I would’ve helped you out.” Clint wrapped his arm around Nat’s shoulder against the bleachers. Natasha nibbled at her nails, painted red,  
“I didn’t need help.” She muttered.   
“I saw Steve talking to him.” Tony shot Steve an accusatory look over his blackberry, “What did you say to him? Ask him for his digits?” Everyone looked at Steve, who widened his eyes like a deer in headlights. Nat raised an eyebrow,  
“You know that guy?”  
“Maybe.”  
“Why wont you tell us?”  
“He’s just- I might have known him when I was a kid. I mean, I grew up with this guy named Bucky. Reminded me a lot of that zero guy.”   
Tony’s phone buzzed with a receiving text, “Did you ask him his name when you were talking to him? Could've cleared a _lot_ of air.”  
Steve’s gaze dropped to the pavement. Tony looked up now, giving Steve his full attention,  
“Well? Did you?”  
Steve shrugged, “Yeah.”  
“What did he say?”  
“He didn’t say anything,” everyone was staring at Steve now, “he wouldn’t even look at me. I said: ‘good game. Man, what a sprint you’ve got there. Hey, do I know you from somewhere? Is your name Bucky?’ and that was that. He just ignored me and walked away.”   
Clint whistled low, “Tough, man.”   
Thor rested one of his massive hands on Steve’s shoulder, but it barely consoled him. Natasha shrugged,   
"If that is your friend, maybe you can tell him to wear cushions over his pads to soften my blow."


End file.
